


Bad Dreams

by samsbeecharmer



Category: Practical Magic (1998), Supernatural
Genre: Dreams and Nightmares, Fluff, Gen, Halloween
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-06-27
Packaged: 2019-05-29 14:45:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15075407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samsbeecharmer/pseuds/samsbeecharmer
Summary: You had a bad dream and seek the comfort of your favorite film and are joined by the Winchesters.





	Bad Dreams

You sat on the sofa you'd insisted the boys put in one corner of the library. “But Dean, it has cup holders,” was the plea that finally got him to cave. Sam had already, against his better judgement, said yes. He always said yes to you eventually. It was one of the innumerable reasons you loved the strong, willful hunter. You turned him into a fluffball. You had to dodge vomit noises from Dean on a nearly daily basis but you didn't care. You were happy with the brothers in the bunker, even if their jobs were dangerous and them not coming home was a real possibility. 

 

You’d popped in one of your favorite films and made popcorn, munching periodically. A big mug of chamomile tea sat nestled in the nearest cup holder. 

 

The dreams had started again. They were always bad but tonight had been especially nasty. Sam wasn't there when you startled awake, having left for his early morning run already. You weren't going back to sleep, so you climbed out of bed, took your quilt with you and made your way to the library.

 

**Practical Magic** always made you smile, laugh and even cry at times. You must have seen it 500 times but you didn't care. It always made you feel like everything was right with the world for just a little while. 

 

You heard the front door creak open and then footfalls on the metal staircase. “Dean? Y/N?  **Why are all the lights on?** ”

 

He jogged into the library and looked down at the pathetic blob that was you on the couch. He was in his workout clothes, his sweat-dampened hair clinging to his forehead but still handsome as ever. 

 

“Hey.” His voice softened. “Nightmare again?”

 

You nodded, his presence making you feel a lot more relaxed.

 

He kissed your forehead. “Let me grab a quick shower and I'll join you.”

 

You beamed at him and he hurried away. Little Sally was casting a spell so she would never fall in love, the white flower petals floating into the sky when you were startled by Dean plunking down next to you. He was still in a t-shirt and boxer-briefs, his robe tied around his waist and slippers on his feet.

 

“What are we watching?” He had a box of cereal in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other.

 

You couldn't help but giggle at the man who was like a brother to you.

 

“Practical Magic. Total chick flick.” You grinned. “Also, Nicole Kidman.” You answered, mentioning one of Dean's weaknesses, redheads. 

 

“Say no more.” He settled in. “Give me some of this.” He yanked some of the comforter from you to cover himself. “It's cold in here.”

 

Five minutes later, after Dean mentioned that he thought Sally was probably a wildcat in bed (“I mean, the glasses alone!”), Sam appeared freshly showered and dressed in sweats and a vneck.

 

“Scoot,” he instructed and you slid over so you were comfortably sandwiched between the two Winchesters. Sam even took some of your blanket.

 

“I'm sorry you had that dream again,” he whispered against your cheek. “And I'm sorry I wasn't there when you woke up.”

 

You gave him a lingering kiss and Dean made a gagging noise, more to annoy you than anything.

 

“Happy Halloween, by the way.” You said, suddenly remembering the date.

 

The two men looked at you.

 

“Y/N, everyday is Halloween on this bus.” Dean shoved cheerios in his mouth.

 

“Perhaps I'll make it a little more interesting by jumping off the roof and flying?” You waggled your eyebrows.

 

Neither of them got the joke and a panicked argument ensued over why you wouldn't be going anywhere near the roof.

 

“Guys!” You yelled, finally to interrupt them. “It's from the movie. Just shut up and watch it.”

 

There was a disgruntled silence and then, very quietly, “Happy Halloween, Y/N.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for a Halloween challenge and the prompt was Practical Magic (1998).


End file.
